


His False King

by JiJiWritesFic



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiJiWritesFic/pseuds/JiJiWritesFic
Summary: Pippin is invited to become Lord Denethor's personal servant.
Relationships: Denethor II/Pippin Took
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	His False King

The steward of Gondor sat on his throne, a small chair beside one much more noble, and looked down at the halfling bowing before him. Such a small gesture carried the weight of this creature’s whole life, and it was given to him on a silver platter. At once he felt like a king.

Placing a finger under the small one’s chin, he lifted his face up to look at him.

“I accept your offer,” Denethor said with a grin.

* * *

_**Ch. 1 A Formal Invitation** _

Gandalf left without much explanation, which Pippin thought was quite like him. The old wizard always seemed to come and go as he pleased, and not even a fool of a Took would attempt to delay his travels by asking questions. Gandalf had a natural air of importance about him and it had only grown stronger as of late. Pippin knew that whatever he was up to was bound to sway the tide of fate. And, though he was glad to have such a powerful ally on his side, it left him feeling rather useless.

And, as a feeling of insignificance dawned on him, Pippin took the weight off his feet and laid down on the bed. There was no need for him to spring into action, at least not yet. For now he was permitted to rest. 

The guest house in the citadel was comfortable enough, though he wished he could be back in Hobbiton with Merry. Staring up at the marble ceiling, playful memories of boyhood flashed into his head. He remembered the two of them getting into petty mischief, running, and slipping into the river. They got covered in mud that day and wouldn’t wash it off until their auntie made them. Pippin childishly hoped they would be able to play in the mud again someday, ignoring how much time had passed since then and how much they’d both grown. With a great war in the making, such a fantasy was the only comfort available to him.

Pippin was beginning to nod off when he heard a knock at the door, and realized that he’d been hugging the pillow tight to his chest. He fluffed it up and put it back near the head of the mattress before going to greet the visitor.

“Hello, master Peregrin. Apologies for disturbing you. The steward has requested that you join him for another meal this afternoon. He wishes to discuss your duties going forth.”

“Then I will be there,” replied Pippin, already feeling the growing emptiness in his stomach. “Tell him that I am honored by his invitation.”

Pippin knew what to expect of the decor from when he had dined in the steward’s halls alongside Gandalf, but somehow the atmosphere was different now that there were only two present at the table. The air was less hostile without the bickering between the wizard and the steward, but it was not less tense. Pippin had been thinking about food the whole time leading up to this moment, but as he stepped into the dining hall to meet his host, he felt very shy. Before Denethor had been asking questions of Pippin and looking at Gandalf. Now Pippin was to face the intimidating man on his own. 

Though the steward was steadily approaching old age, it did not show except for the strands of grey in his dark brown hair. His strong features held up well, and if Pippin didn’t know better he’d guess that he was a wizard like Gandalf. 

He realized Denethor’s gaze was piercing - his stature commanding - and Pippin remembered Gandalf’s advice to keep quiet about some things regarding the quest. 

But as the hobbit sat down Denethor smiled and said, “Welcome back, Ernil i Pheriannath!”

Pippin was taken aback, both by the tone and unexpected title. 

“What was that?”

“I hear that is what people of the city are calling you now: Prince of Halflings. I am impressed that you’ve made a name for yourself already.”

“Oh, is that true?,” said Pippin, “I wasn’t aware. Sadly they are mistaken to think I am a prince, or that I am anywhere near as honorable as one of royalty.”

“Nay! Though you may not be of royal blood you have much honor. The moment you swore an oath to serve Gondor I saw it in you. It is why I have called you here today.”

“Th-thank you my lord,” Pippin managed to squeak. He wasn’t sure how he should respond to a compliment from such a powerful man.

“I think we shall have a more peaceful time than yesterday, now that Mithrandir has gone away.”

At this statement Pippin suppressed the urge to defend his friend. It wouldn’t do for him to make a bad impression now.

“I hope so,” he replied plainly.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what he’s up to, do you?” inquired Denethor.

“No, my lord. He’s made a habit of doing things in secret. Indeed there is much about him that is still a mystery to me.”

Pippin was thankful he didn’t need to hide the truth quite yet. It was possible Gandalf had been looking out for him by not telling him much.

Denethor sighed, obviously hoping for more information.

“That is the way with him. Perhaps you can understand why I find it difficult to receive his advice in these bleak times. There is too much risk involved. And even as I have been tasked to protect Gondor, he does not accept that my decisions are for the good of the kingdom. Quite contrarily, he speaks as if I am no longer fit to rule. Why, I wonder?”

Pippin was silent in thought. He had no wish to take sides and it was all a bit too much for him to take in. Moreover if he did speak, he might accidentally mention Strider and cause more of a fuss.

“Ah, no matter,” said Denethor, noting Pippin’s silence. “That isn’t what I’ve called you here to discuss. I would like to tell you all that serving Gondor entails, but first I want to get to know you.”

The surprise was plain to see on Pippin’s face.

“Me?”

Denethor laughed.

“Yes, of course. After all, you are a member of a strange people from a far away land. It would serve to benefit us both if I knew more about you, master Peregrin.”

Pippin felt conflicted. He wasn’t certain why Denethor was interested in the life of a simple hobbit and he worried that the steward was still fishing for something more out of him.

Looking upon Denethor’s regal face and upturned smile, Pippin caved. 

“Alright. If it pleases you, my lord. What would you like to know?”

* * *

And so as they ate heartily Pippin went into great detail about hobbit culture and customs in the Shire. Denethor was surprisingly good company. Many others would tune out a rambling hobbit speaking about seemingly trivial things, but Denethor listened closely to every word. Pippin even found himself enjoying the conversation and got carried away talking about the Took family tree and how he was related to his close friends Merry and Frodo.

“You must miss them dearly then,” Denethor said.

“Yes... I do.” Pippin’s voice was quivering and his emotions welled up. “Oh never did I imagine we’d end up so torn apart... I said I’d follow them anywhere! They were even planning on leaving without me that day in Rivendell, but I wasn’t going to stay behind and go back home! Just because I haven’t come of age yet doesn’t mean I won’t fight like the rest!”

“What’s this? You were with your friends in Rivendell?” said Denethor. 

His interest was clearly piqued and Pippin stopped sheepishly. He really did get carried away. But seeing this reaction, Denethor was content and didn’t request that he elaborate further on the subject.

“Your enthusiasm is admirable, young hobbit. In truth it draws out memories of my own son in his youth. Oh alas for Boromir, taken from me by the dark lord’s cruel hand! Without him we are lost!”

Denethor looked down in solemn reflection. Pippin felt his heart sink remembering kindly Boromir’s face and then the sound of the many arrows that flew forth to pierce his flesh.

“Your loss grieves us all, my lord. Boromir was among the bravest men I’ve known. But please do not despair, for I see the same greatness in you. I trust that you will lead the men of Minas Tirith to victory!”

“You are too kind, truly,” the steward expressed. “Though I have failed to protect my son I will do my best to make matters right. I will not repeat the mistakes of my past.”

The meal was drawing to its end when the subject was brought back on track.

“As for your official duties, Peregrin Took, I have decided to take you under my wing. You will serve me in this very castle instead of in the outer levels of the city. You have proven yourself plenty deserving of an important position such as this, and perhaps it will be the best option to ensure your safety. The reason you were brought here in the first place was for protection, was it not?”

“How did you- I don’t recall Gandalf saying anything about that!”

“I have a natural intuition. You cannot hide the truth from me so easily, though you may try,” Denethor said, and as he did he cast a knowing glance down at the hobbit across the table. “And thus I know that you bear no ill will and will not betray me.”

“Of-of course not, my lord! I wouldn’t dream of it!”

Pippin felt embarrassed that his mind had been so easily read. Those words from the steward could have been perceived as a threat if not for the complete certainty in his voice. Denethor’s undying faith in the hobbit was at once comforting and ominous.

“I trust your word on that,” Denethor said, setting his utensils down upon the plate now bare in front of him. “Now if you’ve had your fill, you may take your leave for today. Tomorrow I will see you come sunrise. You need bring nothing but your person.”

And so Pippin bowed and left when he was permitted, even though he hadn’t finished his fourth helping yet. The intensity of their talk had quite distracted his stomach, and later that night he regretted leaving the dinner so early. Not only was he only half full, but he never got around to asking his own questions. He had no idea what being a servant of the Lord Denethor would entail.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I wanted a fic that portrayed Denethor more like he is in the book. Ultimately though, I believe what I ended up with is more of a combination of book and movie interpretations.
> 
> Apologies if anything is inaccurate to canon or time period. Try not to think about it too much.
> 
> I have some more chapters in mind that might get steamy, so if those ever get posted expect the rating to jump to explicit real fast. Until then, use your imagination ;D


End file.
